Just Words
by RackOnInNC
Summary: One Shot - This is a "public service announcement"...just a short story that I hope will make a difference to someone.  See A/N at end.  Dean & Castiel no slash. Character Permanent Disability.


Castiel sighed and turned his head toward the window as the first morning rays of sun filtered through. Dean would be here soon, so it was time to get up. Today he wanted to be ready…to show Dean that all was not lost…that he could still be…_useful_. This life was the last thing he expected when he fell and became mortal. He had foreseen hunting with Dean and Sam, going down in a blaze of glory while hunting evil when his time came to die. _Not __this._

They used to be just words he had seen and heard many times when listening to the television or reading a paper. Words that really meant nothing concrete to him except that he knew he was supposed to keep Dean and Sam from doing it…and to have the sense not to do it himself when the time came that he had learned how to drive. _Just __words._

Those words had taken on new meaning in an instant. Concrete, heavy, lumbering words that extinguished the light in Dean's eyes every time he said them or heard them. Eyes that now looked at him in a different way. Gone were the carefree days of jokes that Castiel didn't understand, and movie references he didn't get. Instead it was just a sequence of days…of routine…of pain…and sadness for what was lost forever. _Drunk __driver._

Slowly Castiel sat up and stared at the bathroom door. It seemed like it was a million miles away, but today would be the day he got there on his own. Today would be the day he was ready when Dean arrived. Today would be the day that Dean saw the light back in his own eyes, so that maybe…just maybe…Dean would start to believe that things could be better. Today would be the start of something better.

Castiel took a deep breath and scooted carefully to the edge of the bed. It seemed a long way down to the waiting wheelchair when no one was around to catch him if he fell. He closed his eyes and remembered a time when he could dive from the heavens and freefall until the very last second…spreading his wings to catch the air just so…the satisfying _snap_ as they extended fully…landing ever so softly in exactly the right spot. A single tear rolled down his cheek. The last tear he would shed over what could never be again. Today was the day he would take what fate had given him and make a life from it.

He had barely learned to be human when _it_ happened. Not a hunt…just a rare day off when they decided to go out for lunch. The light turned green and Castiel turned to say something to Dean as he pulled away from the light. The sudden sound of metal grinding against metal, glass breaking, and what seemed like the weight of the world crushing him was the last thing he remembered. When he woke up again he knew something was terribly wrong from the look on Dean's face, but Dean wouldn't speak of it for several days or let the doctors tell him. When he finally did tell Castiel what was wrong it was as if he had been stabbed with an Angel Blade.

Not only was he human, he was a paraplegic human. Almost everything he had learned would have to be relearned. Dean was angry all the time. It hurt to see the anger in his eyes, and Castiel knew deep down that Dean didn't intend to take his anger out on him…it just seemed to get worse as time went on and Dean became more frustrated with the situation. After the first few weeks Dean wasn't even coming everyday to see him. Once the trial was over and the person that did it was sentenced to a long time in jail things got a little bit better, but Castiel still felt like a dead weight around Dean's neck.

It was a struggle to do everyday things, but Castiel slowly went through his morning routine, showering, shaving, getting dressed. It felt good to know that he was finally doing it all on his own. Soon he would be able to leave this place and get back out into the world. A world that was infinitely scarier when you had to look up at everything…where everything seemed to be just out of reach. Here everything was adapted to his special needs…out there very few things were.

With fifteen minutes to spare Castiel took a last look in the mirror and tried to tame his unruly hair one last time before smoothing the front of the new shirt that he had asked the nurse to buy for him. Rolling out into the hall he made his way to the door and then out and down the ramp to the small garden next to the rehab center. There he waited for Dean to arrive. The still somewhat unfamiliar sound of the beat up truck Dean had driven ever since the accident echoed up the driveway and Castiel took a deep breath and smiled as Dean walked toward him. He was hoping the smile would be returned, but was disappointed to see that it wasn't. As quickly as he could he transferred out of the chair and onto the bench and waited for Dean to sit down.

"Hello, Dean."

"Hey, Cas." Dean said without looking at him.

"I did it all myself today, Dean. No one helped."

"That's good Cas. Nice shirt. New jeans too?"

"Yes, I thought I should try to look nice for a change. No more ratty sweatpants and t-shirts."

"That's good. I'm glad you are feeling better."

Castiel shifted slightly so he could face Dean. "I wanted to talk to you about something."

"Anything Cas. What is it?"

"The Impala. I wanted to know why you haven't fixed her yet."

Dean turned and looked him in the eye with a mixture of confusion and suppressed anger in his. "Cas…you know why. I can't look at _it_ the same way again."

"She's not the one that did this to me, Dean. The drunk driver did. You shouldn't turn your back on her because of me."

"Cas, how can you ever look at it again and not think of everything that we have lost. I just can't do it."

Castiel reached out and placed his hand over the place where the scar of his handprint still lingered on Dean's arm. "We can do this Dean. Look at all we have done together. I want to help you fix it up. I can hand you tools…and I can probably help you out underneath lying on a mechanic's creeper. I'd like to learn and maybe I can help Bobby in the yard even if I can't go hunting with you and Sam."

Dean looked up and met Castiel's eyes. A small quirk of his lip told Castiel he was making headway.

"You would really want to do that? It wouldn't bother you to ride in her again?"

"Dean. Riding in any car will probably be difficult for me for a while, but I'm fairly certain it won't be any more so in the Impala. I don't even really remember the accident."

"Only if you are really sure." Dean smiled more broadly and nudged Castiel with his shoulder. "I'll even let you dick her up with hand controls if you want so you can drive her again."

Castiel let out the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding and smiled at Dean. "I'd like that."

"Dude…I'm going to spring you from this hell hole for the day and we'll get started. Get your ass in the truck!"

Dean jumped up and ran toward the door, turning to shoot Castiel a grin and a thumbs up as he transferred back into the wheelchair and started rolling toward the truck. Today was the day. Today was their new beginning.

Castiel smiled.

* * *

><p><strong>I wrote this in honor of a friend of mine that was injured by a drunk driver. My hope is that by telling the story in the terms of characters we all know and love I will make at least one person think twice about driving while drunk and think about what they could do to shatter the lives of others by doing so.<strong>


End file.
